


my eyes are damp (from the words you left ringing in my head)

by softagendergrunge



Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: Angst, Gen, Past Abuse, post minks good ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-31
Updated: 2014-03-31
Packaged: 2018-01-17 17:26:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1396321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softagendergrunge/pseuds/softagendergrunge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>forgiveness is a winding path, and the destination isn't always one you expect</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. mink

**Author's Note:**

> an accompanying mix : http://8tracks.com/softagendergrunge/my-eyes-are-damp-from-the-words-you-left-ringing-in-my-head

It takes him time to become accustomed to your touch, and there is not a single cell in your body that could ever be mad at him for that.

You try to rebuild your relationship from scratch, and destroying the previous foundations is a relief to the both of you, but a slow and agonising process.

You apologise to him with every waking breath, usually without ever saying a word, fearing you’ll startle him. But you will never expect him to forgive you.

But gradually, he does.

The boy’s heart is the softest you’ve ever known, and you know you don’t deserve one part of it.

The first time he brushes against you without flinching, you hold your hand against the wall that separates you at night and smile, feeling the warmth that emanates from him and the tingles it creates in your fingertips.

Slowly, he begins to speak to you more often and more causally, the slight tremor in his voice that breaks your heart with ever shake slowly fading away. He’ll ask you to pass the sugar (he takes so much sugar in his coffee in the morning you’re surprised he can think straight the rest of the day), and deliberately your fingers will intertwine.

You don’t push boundaries. You leave that to him.

One day you walk into the living room and see him curled up on the couch, tears quietly running down his cheeks. At a loss of exactly what to do, you light a fire, throw a blanket over him and go to bed, leaving your door ajar to make sure he’s ok. You don’t expect it to open, and you certainly don’t expect a weight climbing into your bed.

He buries his head into your shoulder as soon as you turn around, and you feel the tears on your skin instantly. You encase him in your arms, hesitantly at first, but when he seems to welcome the warmth, you squeeze him gently.

‘I am so sorry,’ you say gently, knowing that no matter how many languages you learn, there will never be words close to expressing how sorry you truly are.

‘I forgive you,’ he breathes into your hair, and you rest your chin on his head, closing your eyes and breathing him in, relief building up in your heart and spreading to the rest of your body.

He falls asleep, but you don’t.


	2. aoba

You know that what you have together could probably never be considered healthy, but your heart is too full to hold grudges.

As Autumn turns to Winter, the days get colder and the both of you spend more time together lying by the fire, wrapped up in blankets and each other’s arms. He’ll take a break from absentmindedly plaiting your hair to adjust his glasses, and you’ll look up at him, and the pang in your heart will make you smile. And your smile will infect him.

You are recovering, and so is he.

Sometimes he’ll read to you, and you’ll lie your head on his chest and listen to his voice and not so much to the words.

When he goes out to get firewood, he will always bring a flower back for you, and it will always be a different one. He’ll teach you all its names and uses as he braids it into your hair.

There will be days where you’re homesick. Where you lie in your bed instead of his and think of tattoos and piercings and gasmasks. Spiked jackets and doughnuts. You’ll think of going home.

You know that if you decided to leave, he would accept it without protest, but you know he would never come with. And you also know that no one back home would ever forgive him.

That day has yet to come, but it will.


	3. mink

The trouble with treading on eggshells is that you’re going to step on one eventually.

The first time you fight with him, you make the mistake of raising your hand. You never hit him, but it bruises him all the same.

That night he sleeps in your bed with the echo of your body against his back. He does not touch you for two weeks.

But you feel you can finally stand on your feet instead of spending your life on tip toes.


	4. aoba

Forgiveness is harder the second time, but it comes quicker.


	5. mink

He is so much larger than you.


	6. aoba

When the nights get warmer, he brings the blankets outside and you both fall asleep under stars you’ve never seen before. The sight is intimidating, and although it’s supposed to bring you closer together, it’s the thing that prompts your final decision.

It’s finally time to go home.


	7. mink

 You watch him pack the bare essentials away in the bag you made for him, your heart reminding you with every beat that this will undoubtedly be the last time you ever see him. Before he closes the door, he stands on his tiptoes to brush his lips against yours, and then he is gone.


	8. aoba

You’ve noticed that forgiveness comes different to everyone.

Noiz kept up appearances with the apathetic shrug of his shoulders and a murmur of “Didn’t even notice you were gone,” but he hugs you all the same. His hug is brief, one armed, and he avoids eye contact with you afterward, but you smile and rustle his hair, and even though he grumbles you know he’s smiling too.

Koujaku sits you down and lectures you for a good hour on how worried he was like the parent he’s always been to you and he is in tears by the end, but an even longer hug balances it out, along with whispers about how much he loves you, and you respond with apologies that he shushes.

Clear is full of questions, and it takes a while to get him to calm down, but you let him take his time, answering the questions as best you can.

Mizuki takes you out for drinks and makes you tell him where your travels took you.

Tae clips him over the ear and then makes dinner, all the while grumbling about how she’s had to give your share to that “kimono man”, who always came to “check up on her, or so he said. He was really just coming for your food.” And Koujaku smiled and nodded. She makes enough for all of you, and everyone fills you in on everything that has happened.

No one asks about him.

The bag never loses his smell. He never leaves.

Some nights you'll sit out on your balcony, some times alone and sometimes not, and wonder how much more of the sky he is seeing


End file.
